The Price of Friendship
by ApplePower
Summary: A small, entirely OC story about a boy and an elf that are each dealing with grief, and come close to each other in the process. This is slightly angstier than I had originally intended, with some fluff too. You have been warned though. :P Epilogue added!
1. Chapter 1

I can see through the tears in my eyes the figure watching me from the trees. I don't have to see clearly to know who it is. That'd be my old grandpa's special friend, Ralluen. It's rare to see a friendship between elves and men anymore, or so my mum says. I reckon it's a mite rarer now that my Grandpa's gone.

I turn back to the grave, no longer fresh after a week, and take a breath to gather myself. I miss him something fierce; we all do. He was a hunter, knowin' all sorts of things about little critters and how they think, knowin' what kinds of plants you can eat, which ones can save your life, and which can kill you before you can blink. Folk said he was a grim man, with a quick temper, and little laughter, but I knowed better. Sure, you just had to catch him on the right day, but iffen you could, he had the oddest and very best sense on humor I ever seen. It would be a quiet, offhand and quite clever comment here or there that would make you stop and look at him. And there, on his weathered, bearded face, would be the faintest smile and a sideways glance, and that was better than any great shout of laughter. He was fiercely loyal too; iffen you ever wanted someone to watch your back, it'd be my grandpa. Would've done anything to protect his folks, and Ralluen came home with him more than once on account of my grandpa savin' his life.

Folk also called him queer for the type of company he kept. He was often gone for long stretches of time, more often than naught comin' home with his elf friend, Ralluen. The elf carried a bow, as he told me many elves do, and a great gleamin' long-sword, with the prettiest letters and patterns you ever seen. He let me touch it once, when I was a little lad. Ralluen was the only one I ever seen make grandpa laugh outright. When they were home, I could hear their quiet voices talking late into the night about everything under the sky. I hopes that someday I'll like someone as much as grandpa did Ralluen. I think he took grandpa's loss harder than even me. It was as if something was gone from his eyes during the funeral. He was there, in the back, gripping that longbow for all he was worth. He didn't stay with us, though my mum offered, choosing instead to sleep among the stars and the trees.

I catch a slight movement in the trees, and I can see that the elf has left. I make a decision right then, that I'm not going to sit around feelin' sorry for myself, and it's not right to let him do it either. I couldn't bear it if I had to see him so sad and empty for the rest of my days. Maybe I can do something to make his life just a little better. So right quick, I shake myself off, turn back to the house, grab a warm loaf of bread, and head back out the door.

I walk through the yard, across the field, almost up to my waist now with green corn stalks, and into the woods. I am sure of my path, having walked it many times with my Grandpa. Somethin' tells me that that is where Ralluen will be. And as I approach the quiet little pond, I smile and see that I am right. I can see him with his back to a stump right by the water's edge, one foot in the clear water, longbow resting idly against his leg, watching the dragonflies. I try to walk up quietly, so as not to bother him, but I can't help it and step on a branch. Try as I might, I never could move as soft and Grandpa or Ralluen. What really worries me is that he doesn't notice. Normally, he would be up in an instant, a smile on his face, and call out a greeting. But he doesn't even stir.

I walk up and sit down next to him, cross-legged. I fidget with the warm bread in my hand, suddenly hesitant to speak. What if he doesn't want me? What could I do to help, anyway? But I've started this mad idea, and I'll be darned if I don't at least try something.

"R-Ralluen, sir?" I nearly squeak, extremely aware of how close I've decided to sit to him. Finally, he seems to notice me, and turns his face to look at me. There's so much sadness locked up in those eyes that I want to cry. He doesn't answer me, just sits there, and waits for me to continue.

"Well," I start again, clearin' my throat, "I brought you some of that bread that my mum makes that you like so much. Not that you couldn't find your own food out here, but roasted squirrel isn't the same as fresh bread."

He looks at me for a moment longer, then shakes his head lightly, his light brown hair swishing softly around his shoulders.

"I'm not hungry," he whispers. I scoot a little closer and place the bread in his free hand, and try again.

"I don't know how that's possible, seen as you've not come around for a good week, and there's been no sign of your fire around either." I squint at him suspiciously. "Why, I'd reckon you haven't eaten at all this past week! You might be an elf, but all folk has got to eat." Still nothing. I decide to put all my cards on the table. "Please, Ralluen. If my mum finds out that you refused her fresh baked bread, it'd send her into a fit, and you know it. She'd march right out here, and make you eat it. So save us both the trouble, and eat a little?"

Finally, something seems to happen to the elf. He doesn't exactly smile, but there isn't such a great overwhelming sadness in his eyes for a moment. He accepts the bread, and spoks softly.

"It would be dangerous to upset your mother."

I grin broadly at his response, starting to feel a whole lot better myself. Mum told me once that I was never happy until everyone else in the room was smiling with me, and she was right. She usually is, and no one has the courage to tell her when she's not.

"Did I ever tell you about the time that I put a firecracker in mum's chicken coop when I promised her to chase away that skunk?"

"No, but I believe I remember seeing and smelling the aftermath of it."

By the end of the story, I can barely speak, I'm laughing so hard. Finally, would you know it, Ralluen gives me a real, honest-to-goodness smile, with a bite of bread in one cheek. I don't know if I've ever felt more rewarded. But just as soon, the smile disappears, and he looks distant.

"Please thank your mother for me." he murmurs, and just like that, he is gone.

I sit there for a moment, confused and hurt. Why did he just leave like that? Was it something I had done? I shake my head. It's still soon after Grandpa's death, and I had never seen them apart. Maybe it wasn't me. I'll still keep trying to reach him, though. It isn't right for anybody to be alone, no matter if he's an elf or man.


	2. Chapter 2

From my spot in the trees, I watch the boy sit for a moment, looking hurt and confused. I feel guilty for that, but I can't allow myself to become attached to this boy. Not again. Gavyn shakes his head, and I can see a little determination on his freckled face, and he leaves. I let out a breath I don't realize I have been holding. I am more shaken than I care to admit. The way he ran his hand through his hair was an uncanny imitation of his grandfather, but I'm not sure he realizes it. Although he inherited his mother's freckles and outgoing personality, there's still many similarities between him and Alun. I'm not ready to befriend another mortal. The pain of losing Alun is still too clear in my memory.

The boy was right, I haven't eaten in a week. Of course, it's not such a problem for an elf as it would be for a man, but it was still kind of him to think of it. I remember the way he lit up when I finally started eating the bread, and for that I am glad. I am not the only one who was close to Alun, and it wasn't right to see such a bright spirit so sad. I suppose I am the closest connection that he has to his grandfather right now. I cannot bring myself to befriend this boy; I don't believe my heart could bear another loss so soon, but if being near me will help him with his own loss, perhaps it is the least I can do not to shun his attempts to reach out to me, although I don't think I am good company at the moment.

With these resolutions in mind, I look at the bread in my hand, and force myself to finish it. I can picture the smile that would be on his face if he were to know what I have done, and for the first time in a week, I don't feel so bad. I still miss my friend terribly, but having something else to focus on that will honor his memory helps.

Every day for the next few weeks, Gavyn comes to see me for at least an hour every day. Sometimes it is to bring me some bread or a pie that his mother has made; sometimes it is to simply sit with me, and to talk. The conversations are mostly one sided, but he doesn't seem to mind. He will tell me about how his day went, or a story the village elder told the children the night before. He'll watch the animals who visit the pond, and narrates perhaps what they are thinking, giving them human personalities. I find this very amusing; as an elf, I can sense what these creatures are actually feeling, and it does not usually involve a country dance or fall harvest. I don't tell Gavyn that though.

Eventually, and despite myself, I find myself looking forward to his visits. I am amazed to discover how similar Gavyn is to his grandfather, and yet he is entirely his own person. Where Alun could sit for hours on end in companionable silence, Gavyn can hardly seem to sit still, or keep silent. And yet, it doesn't bother me. Alun was a hunter, and although he never killed for sport, he was never bothered by his work. The boy, however, can't stand it if a mouse is injured. He once brought me one that he saved from a barn cat, and together we healed it and sent it on its way.

I marvel also how different I act when I am with this boy. Perhaps it is partially due to circumstances, but it is as if I too am an entirely different person. With Alun, I would be the one to sing, tell stories, find some new place to explore. But despite the many years that I am Gavyn's senior, he is often the one that leads the two of us. He sees things differently than most people, and will make a gifted storyteller when he is older. Just when I think that I have seen all that there is in Arda, he will take an ordinary object, and make me look at it as if I have never seen it before.

I find myself looking for things that the boy will enjoy, like an oddly colored rock, or a bird's nest. I am still able to keep myself emotionally detached, although not as much as I like. Often times, I have to stop myself from becoming too involved with this boy. I can see that it hurts him when I suddenly stop laughing, or don't meet his gaze, but I can't help it. I keep having to remind myself how it felt to lose Alun, and that is enough. I can imagine how it would feel to watch this gentle boy grow up, raise a family, grow old... and all the while I am left unchanged. It is these thoughts that keep me from becoming truly close to Gavyn, and I hope he can forgive me for them.


	3. Chapter 3

It's been a few weeks now since I first brought the bread to Ralluen. I don't reckon that I'll ever truly understand elves. Every time I seem to be getting to him, he'll back off, and it's like I ain't never done anything to start. He's like a brother to me now, and it hurts terribly when he does that. But now I'm determined to reach him. I just don't know why he won't let me.

Today, Ralluen has taken me to see a part of the river that I've never been to. Of course, I've done so much exploring around my house, that it takes a whole day to travel somewhere I haven't been yet. Ralluen says it'll be worth it, and I trust him. It's beautiful. Right where we're sitting, the river begins to tumble into a little ol' waterfall, and at this time of the year, the raspberry plants growing alongside have both flowers and a few early red berries.

Ralluen bets me that he can get more than me, and I accept the challenge. Winner gets to push the loser in. The elf is faster, but I am more willing to get the hard-to-reach berries by the stem. I look up to keep track of Ralluen, and we both notice the big plant at the top of the waterfall. Ralluen takes a moment to figure the jump, and then leaps.

It's a right good jump too- 'cept for the loose rock at the top. It rolls out from under him, and sends him flying back down to the bottom. Luckily, it weren't more than a few feet to the bottom, but Ralluen's soaked through, and lost all his berries. He comes up spluttering.

"Stop laughing, Gavyn, and come help me out of here!" he calls indignantly. I study him for a moment, suspiciously. I don't think he would need help to get out, but perhaps he's rolled his ankle on that rock and is too proud to admit it. Eventually, I scramble over to him, and give him my hand.

I knew it. That dratted elf got a nice good hold on my wrist, and then a good strong yank. I go in with an even bigger splash than he did. I came up spitting water, and glare at him.

"Hey! That was a rotten move!"

"If something works, it works," he shrugs. I splash him, and soon it's an all out battle. Ralluen is faster and stronger than me, and so I have to resort to tricks I had to learn when the bigger boys in the village would gang up on me. They ain't entirely fair, but to quote the elf- if something works, it works.

Eventually we tire out and are left panting and laughing in he middle of the stream.

"Y-you fell!" I wheeze. The elf glares at me, and I scoot back out of reach.

"I did not," he sniffs, gesturing dramatically to the top of the waterfall, "The ground gave way beneath me. It had nothing to do with me."

"You fell and you know it. I'll never, ever forget this- I'll tell my children and grandchildren too, and they'll never let you forget it either."

There- I did it again, though I'm not sure what. Ralluen suddenly stares at me, with those wide, hurting eyes, and then he withdraws.

"D-do not speak of such things, Master Gavyn." he breathes, rising quietly and stepping out of the river.

Now, normally I'd let him go. I know I badger him sometimes, and I don't want to overdo it. But this has happened far too often, and I want to know how to fix it. I scramble up too, tripping out of the water and onto the bank next to him.

"What did I say, Ralluen, to make you go like that again?" by pure accident, some of my own hurt leaves me with the words. The elf flinches a little at my tone and shakes his head, as if he doesn't trust himself to speak. "This ain't the first time this has happened, either. What do I keep doing?! I don't want to hurt you, but it seems I keep messing up somehow. Tell me how to fix it, Ralluen- please," tears are running down my face, mixing with the river water dripping from my hair.

"I..." Ralluen starts, and then stares helplessly at me, like he doesn't know how to say what's inside him. He wants to though, and that calms me down real quick. He just needs a little nudging. Real careful, I take another step towards him. I can see he's crying a bit too.

"Is it about my Grandpa?" I ask him, studying his face. He doesn't answer, but the tears start coming a bit stronger, and I think I'm on the right track.

It's like when warriors tell stories of how they survived a battle, or when the village boys explain to the younger admiring ones how they won the game. Everything sort of narrowed in my sight until I could only see my friend. I can near about feel what he's feeling too- and it's so much pain. I have to keep going, I have to help him. I can't keep watching him get hurt, because it hurts me too.

"Is it about me too?" I ask after a moment of figuring. He takes a shaky breath.

"Y-you are so much like him, sometimes," he finally manages, laughing and crying all at the same time. He lifts a shaky hand to wipe at his eyes. "And I-" he stops again.

"You what?" I ask, every part of me listening, evaluating, feeling, showing me how to respond to all this.

"I," he wraps his arms around himself and looks at me, as if pleading with me to understand, "I can't- not again. It's too much. You're- you're so gentle, so bright, I could not take it so soon again-"

The rest is lost, and I quickly reach out and draw him into a fierce hug. As I hold my trembling friend, I realize I am shaking too. I finally understand what's hurting him, and I am afraid to admit it to myself. The solution to the problem leaves me right scared, and I don't know if I've got the courage to fix this.

So I hug him tight, taking comfort in the hug as much as I am giving it. I think long and hard, battling my own emotions, and trying to convince myself of the right thing to do.

In the end, I realize my mother was right- she always is. She told me once that I would never be happy unless everyone was smiling with me. Then she had looked a little scared then, and murmured that I would make them smile even if it hurt me, and that frightened her.

But there was one thing she might not have thought of. Sharing someones pain was much worse than making it better even if it hurt you, because then you could feel their happiness too, and it made your own pain feel a little smaller.

Quiet now, and breathing regularly, I withdrew a little. Ralluen shifted slightly, and then he moved back a little too, enough that we could see each other at least. I smiled sadly at him.

"I think I understand now," I murmured, "and I know how to fix it- but I don't like it."

"Gavyn-"

"You need to leave, Rallluen," I interrupted firmly, but kindly, "You aren't ready yet for the type of hurt that this friendship is bound to bring. Go back to your own people- in Lorien. Take time to make friends again with people you know won't leave you. Please- take time to heal, because I can't help you- I only hurt you more right now."

As I speak, I feel a deep pain in my chest- my own pain this time. But there are no tears, because I have made up my mind that this pain will be worth it. Ralluen still needs convincing, though.

"Gavyn," he repeats, his eyes soft and uncertain, "I can't leave."

And I can see the unspoken words there, the protectiveness and concern for me, and it warms me from the inside out. But my decision hardens in me a little, and I even find the strength to smile.

"I'll be alright," I tell him, "I'll be better knowing you aren't hurt."

He looks at me for a long time, looking for the truth behind my words. I hold his gaze and let him see- I believe in my decision. Finally, his face breaks down into sadness again, but now it's lighter- free. This time he draws me into a hug, and squeezes me tightly.

"Truly, Gavyn, you are wise beyond your years, but so kind," he whispers in my ear. I hold onto those words, trying to remember every last moment. Finally, Ralluen breathes "thank you," and pulls back.

I look at his face again, and see pain woven tightly with relief, and... respect. I fidget. It's an odd expression to see directed at me, and I'm not rightly sure how I feel about it. I make up my mind to remember it again when I have a moment to myself and decide how I feel then. But right now, I smile faintly at my friend- my best friend- I realize. The sharp pain fills my chest again. But I nod at him when I see his eyes waver uncertainly.

"Go, Ralluen," I tell him gently.

And at last, he turns to leave. In a moment of panic, I call out to him.

"Ralluen!"

He turns back.

"If- if you ever do find yourself able to, and not too much time has passed..." well, I suppose it's my turn to be at a loss for words.

"Yes, Gavyn?"

I look up again. "Would you come visit me?" I look at him hopefully, suddenly feeling very young. He looks at me with compassion- the kind I recognize because it's a part of me too.

"Of course, mellon-nin."

And then he is gone.

(I'm a bit technologically challenged- I forgot how to put the bar in between the story and author notes) :P

Yay! My second Story is up! If you'd like, I have an idea for an epilogue that would be more fluff than angst and make this sadness more bearable, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading something like that and I'll get working on writing it. Thank you for taking the time to read this story, and reviews are greatly appreciated!


	4. Epilogue

I walk silently through the dark woods, following the source of light in front of me. I know my memory serves correct, but I worry that I have spent too much time away.

I am close enough now that I can hear voices coming from the light- children's laughter and a man's deep voice that carries beautifully- a voice made for storytelling. I pause for a moment, listening, hoping.

"...And then the rabbit cocked his furry head at the deer. 'Mr. Antlers,' he says, 'I don't see how you could beat me in a race when everyone knows rabbits is the fastest creatures in the forest!'"

A wave of relief and joy rushes through me and I approach quicker now, smiling. I remember that story- it was one of the first Gavyn told me.

I stop just on the edge of the firelight, right behind the man. Children sit across from him on the other side of the fire, enthralled by the tale and watching him intently. The light dances off their faces, highlighting their joy and making it easy to see who is pulling for the rabbit or the deer.

I lean quietly against the tree and listen all the way to the end, marveling at how changed Gavyn's voice is. He is no longer the child he was when he came up to me with a loaf of bread one afternoon. He is now a full grown man with a family- I can see two older children in the crowd who look just like him. His storytelling has improved; not that it wasn't good before, but now you can hear depth and wisdom in the stories as well as the life and joy.

Too soon, the story ends. The children moan about it too, but Gavyn laughs and holds up his hands.

"Now, none of that," he tells them, "You know what your mothers will say if I keep you late again. Let's head home so you can keep coming."

"Can you tell the one about the dragonfly next time?" a little girl asks, followed by a chorus of agreement. Gavyn laughs again.

"We'll see," he says, shooing them away. "To bed now!"

Once all the children have left, he stands there for a moment, and then stoops a little stiffly to gather the gifts left by the children- colored rocks and feathers. I step closer until I am right behind him.

"That was well done, master storyteller," I murmur.

Gavyn yelps, jumping up and spinning around and I get a good look at his face. His face has filed out, and his skin has aged with the years. He has a graying beard now, with wrinkles around his eyes- smiling wrinkles. As his face goes from surprise to recognition, I am stuck by how much more he looks like Alun. There is no pain at the realization anymore, it just makes me smile softly.

"You came!" he cried, throwing his arms around me. Apparently my friend never completely grew up; I like it that way. I laugh and hug him back.

"Of course I did. I promised."

He squeezes me a little tighter, and then draws back a little. He squints, studying my face.

"You've gotten better." It is not a question. My friend speaks with assurance gained from experience. I smile softly.

"I have."

"It makes me happier than I can say." he looks me in the eye, and I can see it. "Are you going to stay?"

There it is again. That maturity, a quiet confidence. His offer is both welcoming and non-pressuring at the same time. Perhaps it only keeps surprising me because the last memory I have of him is a young, lonely boy. It doesn't hurt anymore; rather, I am proud of the man Gavyn has become.

"For a little while." I answer, "I am a guard in Lorien again, and I only have leave for a month."

"That's wonderful!" he grins. "My two little ones will be dying to show you all around- though, I suppose they aren't so little anymore. Come meet my wife, too."

I follow him away from the fire and towards the village, smiling after him.


End file.
